


My Sweet Daffodil

by spiritualturtle



Category: Bombshells (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/F, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mentions of Rape, Omegaverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2020-09-02 02:09:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20268292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritualturtle/pseuds/spiritualturtle
Summary: Poison Ivy, a notorious eco terrorist who once ruled half of Gotham, until she managed to land herself back into the clutches of Arkham Asylum. If it weren't for a particular bouncing blonde, perhaps she wouldn't have stayed sane for much longer.Honestly just writing this for shits and gigs, I don't know if it will actually turn into something.Edit: it turned into something.





	1. Lunchtime

**Author's Note:**

> Characters and relationships will be added as said characters come into play.  
Using DC bombshells appearances for most if not all, unless the said character is not a part of the comic.  
Kind of an AU where Poison Ivy has a lot more control over Gotham, rivaling Penguin.  
Also, Arkham is a little more established and bite more ' high tech' but the 'treatments' will still be brutal.  
Written in the third person but does focus more on Ivy.  
Harley has since 'left' Joker after the last time she was locked in Arkham.  


Life was short, so one should have fun with it. Well, that didn’t apply to Poison Ivy, especially not when sitting behind a bullet-proof piece of acrylic that separated the older woman from the main hallway of the women’s block in Arkham Asylum. Her cell was a bore, three grey, concrete walls, a concrete floor, a concrete ceiling with a single air vent, mostly used to knock the occupant out for moving if necessary and the acrylic door with small ventilation holes drilled through it. Unlike most of the inmates, Ivy was restricted from yard time after coming into contact with the sun and its rays caused her to injure a variety of inmates and guards, so her privileges were cut. Her usual forest green skin had whittled down to a pale mint colour, her eyes dull. Although the fiery nature of her hair stayed, the same fiery red colour that had earned her the nickname ‘Red’ from a certain clown.

That clown. She no longer saw her, no longer heard of her name. In the quiet of the screaming inmates, that clown was the laughing, light-hearted maniac that kept the place interesting, one could say sane. Her laugh was distinct, almost music to Ivy’s ears. But since spring had rolled around, all omegas in the block had been moved to a more, comforting, wing. Ivy was one of the few female alphas in the whole of the institution, so the block once filled with female inmates had been quietened down to the occasional moan of a desperate alpha. Ivy was certainly not that alpha, she had pride, dignity and was certainly not a live porn show to the male guards.

With the lack of sunlight and the occasional pheromone-nullifying gas, Poison Ivy had become weak, although would never let anyone know that was the case. Her once alluring nature had turned into a mostly bedridden husk, staring at the wall for the chance that she may be able to break out someday or be moved out of maximum security. If that were the path she chose, it meant being on good behaviour, and that was much too hard when it was her way or no way. She was difficult like that.

Spring seemed to last forever, especially with no relief. Harley Quinn was suffering, although it was an overstatement in the eyes of some. She locked herself in her cell, a hot, whining mess. It was the first spring in almost two years that she had spent alone, the Joker usually tending to her sexual needs. Her bed sheets and blankets had been strewn all over the room, her hair sticking to her sweat ridden body. She had dished her jumpsuit, merely wearing her underwear and a white tank top. Her once red and black-tipped hair had grown out, only a few remnants of the colours remaining. She had asked one of the guards to lock the cell from the outside, that way she couldn’t get out. If she did, she would fight tooth and nail to get to an alpha, and she would rather save herself the embarrassment. The block she was placed in was nothing like max, the cells were open unless in lockdown or for special provision. The cells faced a large common room like area, filled with tables and benches, there was even a tv room for those calm enough to behave in there. The food was decent, there wasn’t very much screaming either.

If only it could always be like this, Harley was seriously considering requesting a transfer to a minimum-security block. She behaved, to a degree, she didn’t normally cause issues aside from teasing and toying with the guards. Other than that, there was no reason she wouldn’t be accepted to move into minimal security. Well, that was a lie, there was a certain alpha in her block that intrigued her and she was also her best friend. At least that was how Harley saw her. Ever since Ivy’s yard privileges were pulled, she hadn’t been able to talk to her.

After an okay spring, Harley and the other omegas were returned to their original cells in their different blocks. A guard held Harley’s bound wrists, the acrylic doors opening as they approached her cell. Ivy’s cell was situated opposite of Harley’s and two to the left, so the two could only see each other at certain angles.

Ivy was curled up on her bed, staring at the wall as per usual. She had decently behaved over the spring that she had been given her cafeteria priviledges back, on the agreement she wasn't to act out. Whilst she would have preferred her yard privileges, she wasn’t going to complain. As Harley walked passed, she caught a glimpse and just stared.

That was one thing she didn’t understand why the clown was so attached to her. She was old, extremely old. She would easily pass as Harley’s great grandmother if people knew her biological age rather than her physical age. She wasn’t exactly the nicest person, she hated the human race and their destructive ways and punished them for it. They were mostly fed to Georgia, her large carnivorous plant that ruled over her now vacant greenhouse, once she had drained their life existence of course.

Snapping out of her little daydream, Ivy let out a huff and sat up, stretching out and feeling her back pop in several spots. Letting out a sigh of content, she stared out of the cell and focused on the clock down the hall, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to see it. Unfortunately, both the doctors and guards at the asylum deemed her glasses as a weapon, so reading things was a challenge especially when they were fifty metres away. She assumed it was almost lunchtime, as her stomach let out a loud grumble, easily heard from anyone walking passed.

Eating at the asylum was a challenge, not everything was how Ivy would like it and therefore she always picked at her food and ate very little of what she was given. She mostly just drank the tea that was provided along with the tray of mystery food. Harley on the other hand, whilst she kept an oddly thin frame, had a ravenous appetite and ate almost everything she was given over the three meals.

The cells were also differently designed. For those who weren’t meta-humans, they were very similar to a standard cell if they were in max, although Harley’s possessed an acrobatics silk that hung from the ceiling and at most times, was tied up in a hammock that she hung in as she was only resistant to toxins and poisons. For someone like Killer Frost, when she managed to get herself caught in the hell hole, was kept in a heat regulated cell with very little access to water. For Poison Ivy, it was a vent controlled room with filtered air with the pheromone-nullifying gas being filtered in and spores from the outside filtered out.

Moments after staring down the clock in an attempt to read the time, the siren for lunch blared through the halls, causing a pained groan from Ivy who was quick to block her ears.  
One by one, the inmates were filed out of their cells and cuffed, guided down the hall in single file to the cafeteria. Once in the large space, the guards removed their cuffs and closed the doors once everyone was in, two of the guards standing in front of said doors. Ivy scanned the room, finding a nice sunny spot and was quick to grab her tray and sit on the windowsill, unbuttoning the top half of her jumpsuit and dropping it off her shoulders, tying the arms around her waist. Underneath her jumpsuit was the usual white tank top, one of the male guards managing to stare without her noticing. Harley skipped into the line, humming away happily as per usual, scooping up her tray and sitting at the table closest to the window Ivy was sitting on.

“Hiya Red!” Harley exclaimed, beaming as per usual.

Ivy gave a gentle smile, “hello Harley, how are you?” She asked.

Harley almost rolled her eyes, “I feel so much better, being chucked in with genpop was shit.” She said with a huff.

As she pushed her food around the tray, Ivy glanced Harley over. There was something about the petite woman before her that she was infatuated with although she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She cared for this woman deeply, but her emotions were never in order so she couldn’t quite tell how she felt.

Harley continued to chew Ivy’s ear off about her time in genpop for spring and how glad she was being back in her own cell and seeing the plant woman again. She noticed Ivy dozing in the sunlight and smile, taking the time to study her features. Relaxed, content, it was something she never saw in her normally. Her face was either expressionless or angry and on the odd occasion, depressed. She finished her tray up and down the rest of her coffee, dumping both the tray and the cup in the bin before returning to her spot.

She glanced at the clock and gently shook Ivy’s knee in an attempt to wake her up, “Red, c’mon, we gotta get movin’ soon I don’t wantcha gettin’ in trouble.” She spoke softly so she didn’t startle her.

Ivy’s eyes fluttered open, taking in a deep breath and untying the arm sleeves from her waist and sliding them back on. Once everyone had dumped their trays, the guards filed them all again and cuffed them, taking them back to their individual cells. Ivy missed this interaction, although it was only the interaction with her daffodil that made it worthwhile. Perhaps she could be more behaved, for her sake.


	2. Cell Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: very brief mentions of rape.
> 
> This one is a little shorter and sort of a filler I guess?
> 
> Either way, hope you enjoy.

Torture was a trivial thing, it meant a different thing to every individual. To one, torture was not having enough money, to another, torture is receiving a white-hot branding iron to the side. For Harley Quinn, it was not having attention. Sure, shock therapy could be considered torture but a small part inside her enjoyed the feeling of electric waves rippling through her body. Just thinking about it caused goosebumps to rise all over her arms and a small giggle to leave her throat. It was painfully exhilarating. Harley was an attention seeker, everyone who heard of her knew that immediately. She didn’t take the extremes to receive the attention she wanted, but she did make her needs known to the entire block, taunting the guards constantly to get them to pay attention to her. 

Poison Ivy’s view of torture was also vastly different, as she always dealt out the torture rather than received it. Of course, it was never always that way, there were cases that she would class as torture to her pre-plant self. Back then, rape was torture, the experimentation was torture, even waking up was torture. Now, there wasn’t really anything that she considered torture, she had become numb from the ‘punishments’ the asylum dished out. 

After an extended behaviour test and analysis, Poison Ivy was cleared to be placed with the rest of genpop, Harley having already been moved there a few weeks prior. She had found is exceedingly hard to keep up the good behaviour, but she managed to stick through it. A guard held a chain to her cuffed hands as she held a large mesh bag full of bedding and clothing. She also bore a collar that released the gas to keep her abilities at bay and in check. Once the gas ran out, it would deliver a shock if it detected any of Ivy’s pheromones. 

The guard pushed her through a large gate that separated the minimum security block to the main building. She would have to build her way up the hierarchy and already she could see some competition. It would take a while, but she would easily have all these women under her finger, doing her bidding. She continued to scan the room as she was escorted to her cell. She didn’t have a bunkmate, and for that, she was thankful, for if there was one thing anyone was to know, she did not sleep with others in the room. If they were snoring, she would suffocate them with a sock. If they were restless, she would bind them to the bed with their underwear. So to say she was glad was an understatement. The guard removed her cuffs and headed out of the block, grumbling on their way. 

Harley’s cell was on the second floor of the block and upon hearing the main gate open, she rose from her bed and darted to the balcony, looking down at the floor below. As she laid eyes on the fiery redhead and immediately beamed. Once the guard had left, she leapt over the balcony and landed on a table below, dropping down and off the table and running to the cell that Ivy had walked into. 

“Pammie!!” Harley yelled excitedly, the grin still wide on her face as she hugged the other tightly. 

The sudden yell and contact startle Ivy, her whole body tensing greatly as her brain processed what was going on.  
A guard looked over, sighing, “Quinn, back off.” He scowled.

Harley huffed, letting go and stepping back. That was one thing she didn’t like about the day time guards, they were always giving out shots for even the smallest contact. She was just happy to see the plant woman and she hadn’t been able to touch her for so long. Ivy turned, giving a gentle smile. 

“Hello, daffodil,” She said softly, gently tucking a few strands of blonde hair behind Harley’s ear, earning a smile, “quite the energy today, no?”

The clown giggled, nodding, “I always have too much energy, gotta spend it somehow!” She grinned.

“I understand, but launching yourself at me is not the best way of spending that energy,” Ivy said with a hum. 

Harley nodded in agreement, almost in defeat, “yeah, you’re not wrong, as usual.”

A humoured chuckle left Ivy’s throat as she began to make her bed. Harley climbed up onto the vacant bunk, crossing her legs and resting her head on her hand, watching Ivy as she continued to make her bed, folding every corner with precision. It was almost mesmerising. There were no creases, no unintentional folds. She moved like clockwork, so automated like she had done it a million times. 

To Ivy, it felt like she had. After so many years of being transferred from different facilities, she had to make her bed in every one of them. Even at home, she would make her bed the same, albeit with more decorative pillows and a throw at the end of the bed. Much like her greenhouse, her cell was spotless. Everything put in its place, not a speck of dirt or dust anywhere, her drawer neatly organised. Harley almost envied her, if she had any motivation to keep anything clean. 

“How do ya keep everythin’ so clean when ya life is all topsy turvy?” She asked with the tilt of her head, still looking down at the redhead. 

Ivy gave a gentle sigh, throwing the blanket over her bed and straightening up to look at Harley, “in the greater scheme of things, yes my life is a mess, but if I can keep the little things organised, it keeps me from slipping away.” She explained. 

Harley sat for a moment before it clicked in her head what Ivy was saying and she gave a nod, “I guess my life is too far gone to try and keep all organised and stuff.” She said with a slight shrug. 

Shaking her head, Ivy took a step closer, “no, you are just happy where you are content with your life. Comfortable, and for that I envy.”   
“You? Envy me? Ha! Don’t make me laugh, Red.”

“My intentions are not to make you laugh, dear.” She said with a purr, taking in the omega’s scent.

The clown’s face went a bright shade of red, a nervous giggle leaving her lips. 

“C’mon Red, you’re a tease.” 

Ivy gave a snide smirk, leaning up and kissing her chin, “mhm, and don’t you know it.” 

She stepped back and turned her attention to putting the remainder of her things away. They still didn’t let her have a plant, not even a simple aloe vera and the whole block had their plants removed.

Harley’s cheeks remained bright red, although not a word left her mouth. Ivy had a way with words and actions that made the butterflies in her stomach swarm. One part of her hated it, the other enjoyed it. She was so torn, but she also couldn’t figure out how the redhead felt about her. She wooed her like any alpha would an omega, but it didn’t seem as though she went after other omegas, only herself. It was just mind-boggling and quite frankly, it almost scared her not knowing. But that was the thrill of it all, the fear. The cluelessness of the situation, the curiosity. It was like a game to Harley, a puzzle. Although this puzzle was Poison Ivy, the woman with a titanium shield around her heart. But maybe, just maybe, she could break through it. It seemed she already had made a dent, the hard work was over.


	3. Opposites Attract

The days were slow, dragging. It felt that way every single day for Harley. Well, up until recently. She had found herself growing ever so more attached to the seductive plant woman, and it seemed her feelings were reciprocated. After months of dropping hints, sneaking into her bunk when the guards weren’t looking, it finally took the redhead that long to figure it out, or so she thought. 

Ivy had known that the clown had feelings for her for what felt like eons, although decided to never act upon it. She was worried that she would be placed back into maximum security, she didn’t think she could survive back there. She had become accustomed to the life of living in minimum security. She was given more freedoms, whilst not allowed outside, she was not forced to stay in her cell, her meals weren’t limited. She was allowed to shower without cuffs, move around the block without cuffs. It was bliss. The rubbing on her wrists had slowly begun to fade away, the thin scars from the guards who put them on too tight to the point of cutting into the skin still there, but not as angry. She slept better, ate a little more. She was, comfortable.

It wasn’t clear to most people, but to Harley, she noticed how relaxed Ivy had become. She was easier to be around, not as uptight, snappy. The alpha would brush her hair and play with it often, draw shapes with her nails along her back when she laid with her over nighttime, hold her ever so close as she drifted off into the night. It was odd, most times she performed these actions, not a word was said, almost as though she was scared to talk. That wasn’t like Ivy, especially not to speak her mind. It’s not that she didn’t like being treated so tenderly, it was just, rather odd. She had never seen the other be so kind and gentle, especially to another human being. She had seen her talk to her plants, stroke their leaves. Now, she did the same to the omega. 

Ivy kept her close, held her protectively and barely let her out of her sight. This behaviour was new, unusual, but it felt oddly right at the same time. She didn't understand it completely, but she knew she had to keep Harley safe no matter what. She knew deep down that the clown still had attachments to her former alpha and lover, it ate away at her. 

It killed her knowing that she might lose her, had to continuously remind herself this may not be a permanent arrangement. 

Lying in her cell, the omega curled up on her chest, fingers raking through blonde hair, it was like things couldn't get any worse until it did.

"Y'know Red, I know he'll come to get me," Harley said, breaking the silence. 

A silent groan left Ivy’s throat. She hated it when the other brought up that sick bastard. She wanted to slit his throat and use his blood as fertilizer before feeding him to Georgia. Just thinking about him made her blood boil. 

“Oh? And what makes you so sure?” The red-head asked, withdrawing her hand from the other’s hair. 

Harley sat up in her lap, stretching out, “he’s done it before, no reason he won’t do it again.”

She huffed, rubbing Harley’s hips gently, “reason? He doesn’t care for you.”

There it was. The words that caused a majority if not all of the arguments that they had. Harley slumped forward, sliding off her lap and then off the bed. 

“He does care, otherwise I would be dead now,” she said with a slight scowl. 

A low, almost primal growl left Ivy’s throat, “you almost were, he shoved you out of a moving vehicle-”

“Yeah so I wouldn’t be part of the crash,” Harley interjected. 

“You fractures your arm and split the corner of your eye- I am not fighting this, you are unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable? You are being unreasonable! You can’t see that he loves me!” 

Ivy stood, grabbing a towel and her toiletries bag, walking out of the cell and brushing passed Harley without another word. Harley watched, sitting on the edge of the bed with a slight huff of defeat. The voices in her head taunted and teased her. She grumbled softly, whining and laying on the bed, nestling into the mess of blankets and taking in the scent of the alpha. It calmed her, the voices in her head slowly wilting away until she could think clearly, closing her eyes and within a few seconds, she was in a deep sleep tangled in Ivy’s blankets. She wouldn’t like to admit it, but she did find Joker’s ways a little much. The constant slapping and shoving when she didn’t do as asked and the bruising on her arms from how hard he would grab her, it was only when she was alone that she thought something bad of it.

When Ivy would confront her as she did earlier, it only made her think more about it and how much it really was an issue, but of course, she wouldn’t say anything to Ivy about it, she wouldn’t admit defeat that easily. She was too stubborn for that. 

Ivy had a shower and returned to her cell, looking over Harley’s sleeping figure bringing a small smile to her face. She couldn’t stay mad at her little daffodil. She was her world in this fucked up place. After setting her towel down and tucking her toiletries away she climbed into the bed and pulled Harley close to her chest, nestling into the back of her neck and closing her eyes. 

A silence fell over the block, the lights turning off one by one until the block was almost completely black aside from the emergency lights. Ivy held Harley throughout the night, waking up every so often before lulling herself back to sleep. 

It was nights like these that Ivy remembered why she cared so much for the omega, who was now held protectively to her chest. Not a care in the world. She was the complete opposite of the red-head, boundless amounts of energy, always trying to keep herself in high spirits. Ivy saved her energy for when she desperately needed it and she almost always looked on the negative side of things. But as they say, opposites attract.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as long as I wanted, but I've come to a bit of a roadblock, all my ideas for this fic have diminished.


	4. Music to My Ears (E)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: EXPLICIT CONTENT  
Anatomy reference used: https://pack-the-pack.tumblr.com/post/166382535446/im-inlov3-with-a-kill3r-yupomegaverse

Time was neither for nor against someone, although in Harley’s eyes, time was certainly against her. It felt like it was only yesterday that she was grumbling and whining, tossing and turning whilst sweat plastered sheets followed her figure. She could feel her heat cycle coming on and she tried her very best to keep it down. Her temperature fluctuated, her body releasing a thick scent every now and then that she dampened with a cold shower, she became easily startled and kept close to Ivy even more so than she was before. The only good thing that came out of it was the fact that she was easily turned on, her own pheromones being picked up by Ivy and her needs taken care of. That was the only time it was bliss, every other moment was hell. 

After almost twelve months of behaving in the minimum security wing, the doctors of Arkham Asylum decided to take Ivy’s pheromone controlling collar off under the condition that if she did act out, it was shoot to kill. The alpha understood these demands and agreed to them under one condition, throughout spring, Harley was to be taken with her when moved to maximum security for the season. Of course, the staff were cautious and upon agreeing to the condition, Harley had a birth control implant placed in her arm to make sure no unwanted mistakes were made. 

Harley didn’t completely dismiss the idea of having pups one day, although having them in an asylum was certainly not ideal, she didn’t exactly disregard the option. She knew that sometime in the future she would like to have one or two, but the only thing holding her back was her alpha. Ivy wasn’t so set on the idea, she didn’t like humans the way it was, why would she want to have a hopeless thing demanding her attention? The red-head understood that she was once that age, but she was no longer all human, she hadn’t been for so long. Those memories were painful, and she would much rather not remember them. 

Ivy’s pheromones began to get under Harley’s skin, whilst immune to her toxins her pheromones were a different story, and they were going hand in hand with her heat symptoms. It drove her up the walls. After walking back from her third cold shower in a day, Harley shuffled into Ivy’s cell and plonked down onto the bed with a groan, next to the other who sat up against the wall with a book in hand. 

Moving a hand away from the book that she cradled, Ivy gently rubbed the small of Harley’s back, “still not feeling great, daffodil?” She asked. 

“Feelin’ great? I’m feelin’ fantastic!” Harley answered, sarcasm clear in her tone. 

A soft sigh left the alpha’s lips, followed but a quiet thud of the book closing. She set it down on the metal bedside table, tucking her hands under Harley’s arms and bringing her up and into her lap. For Harley, her mind was like jelly, all she wanted was for Ivy to pin her down and fuck her senseless. For Ivy, she was very very close to doing so. Nestling into the crook of her omega’s neck, she took in deep breaths, her scent wafting up through her nose and triggering her olfactory nerves. A low, primal growl bellowed from deep within Ivy’s chest, a sound Harley had never heard before. It sent shivers down her spine, her heart rate picking up ever so slightly in pace.  
The block of cells was quiet, it was lights out. Special provisions had been made for the pair in order for Ivy to keep her promise of repressing her pheromones, they would do anything to have complete control over the human-plant hybrid. 

Ivy’s hands wandered down to Harley’s hips as she began to pepper her omega’s neck with light kisses, her hands having a firm but gentle hold on her hips. Harley’s scent flooded both the cell and Ivy’s senses and in one swift but smooth movement, Ivy had her omega on her back and her hands above her head. She made quick work removing Harley’s jumpsuit, lifting her torso and hips when needed before dishing the orange garment to the floor before she started on her own jumpsuit. For Harley, watching Ivy unbuttoned the horribly unattractive clothing felt like a millennium had passed and once that was off and joined the other jumpsuit, she was quick to grab the alpha’s singlet and pulled it over and off her head, tossing it to the ever-growing pile of clothing.

Bras were not permitted in Arkham as the staff deemed them dangerous. So, a pair of mint, perfectly rounded breasts were before Harley and she was not complaining. Ivy always wore revealing clothing whenever she saw her outside of the hell hole, but this was something else. Propping herself up on her elbow and using her spare hand to cup the back of Ivy’s neck, the omega pulled her down, smashing their lips together. Each kiss was like shock therapy, although pleasant, addicting. Another growl left Ivy’s throat, this time more dominating. She didn’t like being told what to do, nevertheless shown. The sound made Harley retract her hand, pulling away from the other’s lips and plopping back onto the mattress below her. A smirk spread across Ivy’s lips, her fingers hooking at the hem of Harley’s singlet and pulling it up and over her arms and head, pushing it aside to the foot of the bed. 

A shiver racketed through Harley’s body, her nipples hardening from the cool air that brushed over them. A pleased purr left Ivy’s lips and she bent down, trailing kisses down from the clown’s ear to her bust, hooking a finger around the band of her underwear. If it wasn’t clear at first that Harley was wet, it was certainly clear then. Her underwear was damp with her fluids, Ivy’s gentle actions grinding her gears in a good way. The alpha’s lips latched onto her left nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive bud as she pulled down her underwear, sliding them down her thighs and calves, over her feet and tossing them aside to the pile. Instinctively, Harley pressed her thighs together tightly. Slim fingers gently pried her legs apart, a thumb pressing to her clitoris, earning a soft moan from the omega. It was music to her ears. Whilst one hand worked at the nerve bundle, the other worked at removing her own underwear and once off, joined the rest of their clothes. 

Unlike maximum security, the cells in minimum did not possess completely acrylic doors, the only see-through material was a very small window by the top of the door.

Ivy’s mouth redirected to Harley’s neck, latching onto the soft, smooth skin and leaving a small love bite. Moans continued to flood from Harley’s lips. 

“C’mon Red~ Don’t be such a tease~” She whined out, rolling her hips up against Ivy’s hand. 

Another purr left the alpha’s throat and in one swift motion, rolled Harley over and propped her on her hands and knees. The omega slid a pillow in front of her, mostly to be used to muffle her moans and to sink her teeth into. 

Ivy leant over her, placing kisses along her shoulders and shoulder blades, a hand sliding up her side to cup her right breast, her thumb and index finger gently pinching her nipple, earning a pleasured cry from the other. The alpha’s member slid from its sheath, Harley’s entrance slick, accepting. Her scent became thick, driving Ivy’s inner beast to its limits, although she kept it under control, to a degree. Kissing along Harley’s spine, Ivy teased her tip through her omega’s folds, earning another whine although this one was impatient. 

Another smirk formed across her lips, “patience is a virtue, my dear.”

“Patience won’t get me what I want,” Harley said stubbornly, pushing her hips back against the other. 

“Perhaps you are right in this instance,” she purred, sliding her length into the clown.

Harley pushed her face into the pillow beneath her, masking the loud moan that left her lips, her walls tightening around her alpha. The fire between her legs eased slightly, but she wanted more. She needed more. Ivy sat for a moment, but Harley once again pushed her hips back, sending shivers down her spine. That was the cue. She drew her hips back slightly before pushing back in, picking up a steady yet gentle rhythm to start with. 

Her hand had ceased it teasing pinching, groping her breast and rolling the bud between her finger and thumb to add to the pleasure. Moans continued to flow from Harley’s throat and whilst muffled, filled Ivy’s ears. Ivy’s back arched forward, her spare hand resting on the side of the pillow, her lips meeting the back of her omega’s neck. 

Gradually, the red-heads thrusts became quicker, rougher, the sound of quiet grunts, skin striking skin, and Harley’s muffled moans filled the room. 

“Oh Red~ p-please don’t stop~” Harley whined out breathlessly, her head tilted to the side. 

Ivy gave a slight chuckle, leaning down to her ear and whispering, “I don’t plan to until you sing for me.”

Harley felt a slight pressure against her walls and her entrance as her alpha continued to pound into her, making the assumption it was the other’s knot beginning to form. Feeling the slight bump pressing against her made her moan all the louder, her mouth salivating. Ivy was close, a warming sensation filling the pit of her stomach and her ever solidifying knot making it even clearer. Her hand dropped from the clown’s breast and pressed against the bed on the other side of the pillow to balance herself. Her hips continued their movements, her lips returning to Harley’s neck. 

“I’m close-” Ivy started, although was interrupted rather quickly.

“Give it all to m-me Pammie~ Every last aaaah~!”

This time, it was Harley who was cut short, Ivy slamming into her one last time with a low groan, biting the back of her neck as her knot expanding, locking them in place. Streams of her seed coated her insides, a loud cry leaving Harley’s lips. Her walls tensed and relaxed, milking Ivy of everything she had. Their chests heaved, heavy panting replacing the moans from earlier. Harley’s thighs trembled, her arms cradling the pillow underneath her head as Ivy whisked away a stream of saliva from the corner of her mouth with her thumb. A thin film of sweat covered the two, the bite mark Ivy gave her red, almost blue. 

Ivy pulled her omega up against her chest, careful not to move their hips too much as she laid back on the bed, spooning the other and nestling into her neck. Harley slowly came down from her high, relaxing against the other and closing her eyes. Once her knot deflated, Ivy withdrew from the other, her length returning to its sheath. 

Soon, dead silence fell on the block as the pair fell into a deep and well-deserved sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing out a somewhat detailed smut scene, not too shabby if I do say so myself.


	5. Two is a Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My deepest apologies for this being so dragged out, I completely forgot it existed if I'm going to be completely honest. This chapter has been sitting in my system since October 12th and I only now got around to posting it. Again, I'm really sorry.

Gotham was never a sunny place, mostly overcast even through the summer months but was never as dully lit than Arkham was. It was like there was a permanent shadow cast over the hell hole. The small rays of sunlight that managed to pierce through the thick layers of cloud, Ivy was quick to source them out and bask in them. 

Although today was an exception. It was quite sunny, only very few clouds but Ivy had different priorities in mind. She had managed to gain most of the guards’ trust, having regained her yard privileges once more. The collar still stayed on at all times, but she had managed to tamper with it enough to inhibit the spray mechanism in the collar. In the process, she had sustained numerous shocks whilst disabling the mechanics which caused the skin under the collar to blister and become red-raw. 

Having locked herself away in her room, Ivy had become a bit of a hermit to onlookers, including Harley. The clown hadn’t seen her little side mate for almost a month and she was beginning to worry. When in reality, she had been slowly storing her strength as the cell had become a mini jungle of plants. They grew in size each day, one being a carnivorous plant much like Georgia. She was planning to escape and whether she was taking the little blonde omega with her crossed her mind each day she made progress. 

The building’s structures had been infested with Japanese Knotweed, slowly whittling away the building's support. A few walls in max had begun to crumble but as the plant is invasive, it's almost impossible to get rid of. The maintenance team had continuously mended the walls and were quick to douse the plants in bleach but only for them to grow back. As the Arkham staff weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed, none of them seemed to link anything back to Poison Ivy, believing that she was still docile. The plants had destroyed her cell, burrowing underneath and plaguing the plumbing. They had infested the walls, although kept it intact to keep any suspicion at bay. It was only a matter of time. 

Harley sat in her own cell, hanging upside down from the bedsheet she had tied to the two vents on either side of the ceiling. Her face had begun to turn red, but in her now bloodshot eyes it was part of the fun. She missed seeing the redhead, she felt deprived of her attention. Considering their last conversation, well, more of an argument, was to do with the Joker again she was almost scared to even try and talk to her. That was a lot of yelling in such a short period of time. Ivy did have a point, Harley certainly saw that but whether she took it on board was another story. It almost went through one ear and out the other, the only thing that really stuck was that Ivy detested that clown prince. The voices in her head would always twist the words, saying that Ivy didn’t like her, that she only used her and the only one who cared was the Joker. There was one voice, but it was quiet and pushed the back in all the yelling and protesting, she didn’t believe the voice was speaking any truth so always ignored it. 

She gave a huff and dropped down from her perch, striding over the plant woman’s cell and giving a gentle knock on the door. 

“Hiya Red, ar’ ya in there?” She asked, although her voice was quiet, cautious. 

“Mmm perhaps I am, what do you need?” Ivy’s once alluring voice had returned, like honey laced with thorns. 

Harley frowned slightly. She sounded just like him, immediately asking if she wanted something rather than being pleased to see her. 

She gave a slight huff, “I don’t want nothin’, I just wanna make sure ya doin’ alright. I haven’t seen ya for a while.”

A soft click was heard and the door was pushed ajar. All Harley could see was green and whether it was dangerous or not, she stepped into the thicket, closing and locking the cell door behind her. She was in awe. She couldn’t have imagined that she had a whole garden plus some in her cell, she also couldn’t imagine how so managed to do such a thing without getting caught. 

The omega’s eyes scanned the room, “Pammie...what are ya doin’?”

The woman turned to face her, “leaving this hell hole, it’s up to you whether you follow me or go to that sick son of a bitch you let claim you,” she snarled, disdain clear on her voice. 

Harley pushed down the urge to bite back and defend him but her mind was too scattered to do such a thing. She merely nodded, for once falling silent in the presence of the temptress. She was torn. Ivy was so tender and gentle with her almost all the time, aside from the small hiccup here and there, yet she belonged to the clown prince. He had claimed her, although the once prominent mark on the back of her neck had faded as she began to subconsciously reject Joker as a mate. 

“..what if I come with ya?” She asked, slightly cowering. 

“Well, I would quite like that, but of course I won’t force you, fleur,” she answered, walking over to the other and gently cupping her cheek.

The omega swallowed, looking up at her, “y-ya not usin’ ya funky scent thing...are ya?”

Ivy could see the fear in her eyes, but it wasn’t the fear that she preyed on, not for Harley. Those men, she had no remorse when devouring them, but no matter how hard she wanted to teach Harley a lesson for going back to that wretched clown, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything to harm her. Her finger gently grazed over her cheekbone, her bright emerald eyes staring directly into Harley’s brilliant blues. 

“No love, I couldn’t do that to you, never,” she purred softly, “I care far too much.”

Those words, they sounded preposterous. The great Poison Ivy never cared about anyone or anything for that matter, aside from the green of course. Her one true purpose. But the fact that those words came straight from the plant lady herself. That gorgeously green woman who was now caressing her cheek, so lost in her eyes that she only just noticed that she was indeed very hungry. 

Swallowing the build-up of saliva in her mouth, Harley spoke up. 

“I’ll follow you to hell and back, Red,” she said, her voice quiet and submissive. 

A satisfied purr left Ivy’s throat, “before we can leave, you best go and eat. Your stomach is like a pack of wolves.” 

Harley gave a soft giggle, lightly pecking Ivy’s nose and jumping up from her spot, stretching out. Butterflies flew around her stomach, she hadn’t felt this giddy in a while. It was nice, she felt like she was walking on clouds as she wandered out of the forest like cell and into the common area to grab her tray of questionable food. She couldn’t wait but wasn’t sure if they would successfully escape. She wasn’t doubting her new fling but had never witnessed the woman leave. Maybe she was just really sneaky, after all, she had managed to sneak into Harley’s cell on multiple occasions without the guards noticing. 

This one was going to be fun, Harley could feel it in her jellies.


	6. Gotta Get Back Up Again

The world was dull and unamusing to the naked eye. It was boring and worked like clockwork, everything so regimental. But to Harley, it was a playground. A giant, brightly coloured playground. She was like a child in a play centre, her eyes always bright and never still, scanning her surroundings to see what she could do next. Unfortunately, that never was the case in Arkham. There was never anything interesting, well, not until she was pulled from her cell to receive complimentary electroshock therapy. That was until now. Dashing through the halls as the walls around her crumbled, the once bulletproof acrylic shattered under the pressure of green flora. 

The low-security wing was in shambles, Ivy had made her move. The stairs had collapsed, injuring many inmates but Ivy couldn’t care less. She had one thing on her mind, getting out. Whether that was with or without Harley, she wasn’t to know yet. She took out guards, the large vines strangling them in the process and giving her a clear path. Harley tried her best to follow the redhead, but god was she quick. Harley considered herself fit, but running at full speed for this long, she could feel her legs start to give way. Their route had become blocked by rubble and Ivy snarled. They would have to take a detour, although the only way through was passed the maximum-security wing. Ivy grabbed the clown’s wrist, pulling her in a separate direction. Harley was dragged along, struggling to keep her footing as she stumbled behind the plant woman. If she had been barefoot, she would’ve skinned her toes and the tops of her feet with how much she was dragging her feet. 

“H-hang on Red! I’m gonna trip!” She managed to call out, although Ivy seemed to pay no mind. 

The pair darted through the halls, ducking and jumping through holes and over hurdles. Harley would be sleeping well that night, she knew that much. Ivy breached the main wall that separated the inside from the outside, the large plants bursting out from the ground and growing up to her height. She grabbed Harley and pulled her close, jumping onto the plant. The plant proceeded to make it’s way up and over the barbed wire fencing all the while deflecting the storm of bullets that were sent their way. Although, one did get through, piercing straight through Harley’s calf muscle and she let out quite a loud screech. Had Ivy not been pumped with adrenaline, she may have scolded Harley to shut up. Once on the other side of the fence, she picked up Harley and hoisted her over her shoulder, making a mad dash for her greenhouse. 

As the asylum faded in the distance, the plants around Ivy carried them the rest of the way whilst she studied Harley's leg. Tears rolled down the blonde's face, her jaw clenched so tightly that she was worried she would chip her teeth. Ivy ripped a sleeve off of her jumpsuit, tying it just below her knee to restrict blood flow so she could see what was going on. She ripped the other sleeve off her jumpsuit and used it to soak up the blood before ripping a clean part off of it and shoving it into Harleys mouth. 

"Bite down on this and scream if you have to," she told her, Harley nodding nervously. 

Ivy plunged her fingers into the wound, digging around slightly for the bullet. Biting into the cloth and screaming into it is exactly what Harley did, the tears continuing to stream down her cheeks as she dug her nails into the plant below her. The burning of Ivy digging around the pocket full of damaged muscle and blood sent her over the edge and she promptly fainted. Once she retrieved the bullet, Ivy tossed it to the side, picking Harley up and cradling her as they continued the trek home. She planted her lips lightly to Harley’s forehead, closing her eyes and taking in her scent. The clown was only out for a minute at most but stayed curled up to the alpha, biting her cheek and whining softly. It didn’t take long for them to return to the greenhouse, Ivy carrying her inside and placing her down onto the couch before disappearing into a room. 

Harley clung to one of the cushions that were positioned on the couch, whining and letting the fabric soak up her tears. She had endured a lot of pain over the years and had learned to keep it to herself, although this was something different. She didn’t feel the need to hide it, but it was an automatic response at this stage. Ivy wandered out with a box, several needles and bandages in the box. She sat by Harley’s feet, setting the needles down and placing her leg on a cushion to keep it elevated whilst she worked. She was quick to inject the contents of the two syringes, each one earning a pained squeak from the blonde. A soft hum left her throat in a way to comfort the other, waiting for the local anesthetic to take effect before beginning to suture the wound closed after concluding that the muscle wasn’t severely damaged and would heal on its own. Doing this caused a few soft sobs to leave Harley’s lips but once it was over ,she was quick to whisk the tears away. Ivy applied an antibiotic cream to the wound before applying gauze and bandaging her leg. She was never the motherly type, hell she was an alpha, but seeing Harley in pain churned her insides. She hated it. 

Once she clipped the bandage in place, she handed the blonde a bottle of water and four pills - two paracetamol and two ibuprofen - before standing up and taking the box back to the room in which she emerged from. Harley downed the pills and sculled half the bottle of water, taking in a few deep breaths once she swallowed. It was always like this, Ivy bandaging her up. Although it was normally at the hands of Joker, so a small part of her was relieved. Whilst she could almost feel the redhead seething, it wasn’t ad bad as it usually was. Normally, the plant woman would almost be scolding Harley as she dressed her wounds, but not this time. It was nice. 

“Hey Red...what now?” She asked, her voice wavering slightly. 

Ivy walked out, wiping her hands on a tea towel before folding it neatly and setting it on the kitchen bench, “well for one, you are going to rest up and wait for that leg to heal before anything. It may seem farfetched, but I would like to try and lead a normal life, well, as normal as possible. The greenhouse is falling apart, it’s not exactly the safest place.”

Harley let out a huff, “so I’m assuming you won’t let me go and see mistah-” She was abruptly cut off. 

“Don’t even try, peanut. Your main priority is getting better,” she said, walking over and kissing her forehead. 

“Yeah, alright, fine. But, under one condition,” Harley said with a rather coy smirk.

Ivy frowned, “what?”

“You have to play games with me and watch movies with me, whenever I want.”

Not a word left the plant woman, only a dismissive sigh. How could she say no?


	7. The Downfall of Pamela Isley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions/slight depictions of rape

In the few weeks that it took for Harley’s gunshot wound to heal, the pair had come quite close, although Harley still spoke highly of the Joker. It always seemed to grind Ivy's gears and Harley always took notice. Did she ever cease to do such a thing? Of course not. He was her 'puddin'', and always will be. But whether she was to go back to him, she had been beginning to contemplate. She had learnt a lot about Pamela, well, no. She had learnt a lot about Poison Ivy, Pamela was no more. The young, hopeful, bright student who fell into the claws of a psychopath. She had been gone long ago and there was not a hope in hell she would be coming back. In her place stood the regal, eco-terrorist that was Poison Ivy. 

Pamela Isley was from a well-known family, the only child, mummy's little angel. Old money, they used to say. She had the best schooling, the best of clothes and a plethora of books that helped her excel in all sciences. Her family was well respected and prideful. In Ivy's words 'they each had a pole so far up their arses that they were choking on it'. Pamela never seemed to fit in, never going to socials and barely ever leaving the library that their estate facilitated. She would very rarely wear the dresses her mother bought her, she would rarely ever attempt to tame her lion’s mane of red hair. Her nose was always stuck in a book and in her notes. It wasn't until her mother had tried to marry her off that things began to change. She had become bitter towards her family, being even more closeted than before. It wasn't until her senior year when they realised she wasn't as perfect as they saw her. Pamela had never had a boyfriend, never found interest in men. It was always her studies until she was asked to her senior formal. By a girl. Oh did things change that night. She was more than willing to go, but of course, when she told her mother, all hell broke loose. Yelling, screaming, cussing. Even Pamela's father hid from her mother's rage. It was something neither of them had seen before. It was when her mother slapped her across the face, so hard that she stumbled back, did she snap. But of course, she wouldn't take it out on her parents, not yet. She would wait, become a credited botanist and then unleash her fury. 

From that day on, she didn't speak another word to her mother. She was enthralled with her studies, being accepted into the top university for plant sciences in an honours program. Top of her class, she may add. It was there where she met Professor Woodrue, where the whole course of her life went off the rails. First, it was admiration. She would always do her best to excel in her course, constantly staying back, refusing to go to parties or for weekends away with her acquaintances. After that, became infatuation. He began to hone in on her, like a falcon diving for its prey. He swooped in, told her what she wanted to hear. That she would be a great scientist one day, that the world didn’t see her potential. But he did, he saw the potential in her, although used her as a pawn. He roped her in, enticed her, played with her. Caused her pleasures she had never felt, provided security. She was so naive, she followed him everywhere. When the professor escorted her to his lab, she was more than curious. If only she knew she wasn’t going to be leaving. Maybe she wouldn’t have stepped into the lab, maybe she would’ve called the officials. No, she followed him eagerly. She was too entranced with him. She classed her studies as too important to have to worry about anything else. It wasn’t until the time he raped her into unconsciousness, did she start to regret her decisions. Every day was a new hell. It started with the needles, then once she got over that, it was the painful IV treatments. It burned its way through her veins, through her heart. Every breath felt worse than the last like a thousand burning needles stabbed her whole being. Then it was the operations, the scalpels, even more tests. It was never-ending, she couldn’t recall a time where she was ever comfortable. The rape was another thing. Laying there, half-conscious after yet another test, his heaving stature above her. She could’ve sworn tears left her eyes, but of course, why would he care? He never did, and now she knew that. 

Once her transformation was complete, Pamela had vanished, never to return. In her place stood a fierce woman, who’s stare could pierce the strongest of materials and strike fear into anyone she looked at. She hunted Woodrue like the coward he was, stripping him of his very life essence and leaving his body in that lab. The police weren’t too far from the crime scene and when an explosion went off, they were quick to investigate but of course, the only body there was the professor’s, plants now sprouting from his deceased form. They found all his notes, all his findings, but they never found Pamela Isley. No one was going to find her. They searched and searched, but their efforts were useless. 

The moment Ivy harnessed her newfound abilities, she went after her parents. The very people she despised, the ones who tried to change her. The ones who ultimately turned her into the monster she now saw when she looked in the mirror. Soon, the Isley estate was encased in plant life, the walls crumbling down to nothing and as the elements took over, the place was in ruin. The wood was rotting away, filling with termites, the once lavish lounges were nothing but fungus and creepers. Even the greenhouse where Pamela spent all her time, was nothing but shattered glass. In the middle of the building, stood two large oaks. They seemed to possess the faces of the occupants, their attributes formed quite prominently. The police investigated that scene also, but of course, the promising daughter was never to be found. 

Poison Ivy never looked back, trying to push every part that made her what she was away and she did a good job of it. Her only issue was with men. Sure, she would hunt them down for her plants and use for her bidding, but other than she was weary. Even when one brushed by her in a club or out in public, she would flinch and move away. If one were to grab her arm, she would promptly break their hand. That was why she was so adamant about the Joker. She knew what is what like, not to that extent, but enough to know the ruin Harley would be in once the little voice in her head realised what was going on. 

The only one who could ever call her even close to Pamela was Harley. She tolerated the nickname ‘Pammie’, although it wasn’t used as often as ‘Red’ so it didn’t churn her up as much. Whenever Selina used it, she would glare daggers at her. It was just one of those things she had become accustomed to. 

Harley gave out a whine and a weird noise left her throat. She was perched back on the couch, Ivy carefully removing the stitching from her wound. The wound had healed well, Ivy was happy with it. As she pulled the last one out, Harley jumped up from her spot and grinned. Now she could do as she pleased, she didn’t have to mope around Ivy’s greenhouse. In Ivy’s mind, now Harley could help her pack the truck with all of her boxed belongings. Whilst she was nursing the clown back to health once again, she had found a penthouse apartment in the heart of Gotham and wasted no time securing it. Whilst it would take a while for her to set up all her babies, she was somewhat excited. The greenhouse just wasn’t holding up anymore, her furniture was outdated and Georgia was beginning to wilt as the soil quality lessened. 

“Alrighty! Thanks, Red, I’ll see ya ‘round!” Harley broke the green woman out of her thoughts, skipping to the room she was sleeping in and gathering all her things. 

Ivy gave a frown, “and where do you think you’re going?” she questioned her, setting her hands upon her hips and rocking her weight to one side. 

“Ta mistah J of course! God, I’m sure he missed me, I’m sure he can’t wait to see me!” She said cheerily. 

She was excited to be able to run around again, Ivy understood that much but going back to the clown prince? She thought not. So, she started the argument like every one before then. 

“Harley, you can’t go back. You and I both know what will happen,” she let out a sigh, “besides, you saw what happened to his hideout, Harvey blew it to smithereens-”

“I know he’s out there, I can find him. I’ve done it before, I can do it again!” The blonde beamed. 

The redhead pinched the bridge of her nose, “Harley, peanut, do you not think that he keeps changing location because he doesn’t care about you? That he keeps leaving you in Arkham’s jaws because he’ll get a laugh out of your untimely death?”

“I don’t think Ivy-”

“I do not care. You will sit down and have a long, hard think about what you’re about to do, what he has done, what he’s going to do,” she demanded, grabbing her shoulders and shoving her to the couch. 

Had this not been a serious matter, Harley would’ve been a horny mess. She loved the way Ivy demanded things, even hearing her on the phone to Oswald and his goons made her all tingly inside. Oh and forcing her to sit just made it all the better but there was something in Ivy’s eye that Harley found. It was new. It was desperate, pleading. She had never seen this look before, it struck a sore point in her chest. Those normally harsh, foxy eyes, now sad and begging. It was a weak point, like a wolf showing its stomach. This wolf was showing its stomach to Harley, knowing full well she wouldn’t hurt her. 

“Please,” the woman’s voice wavered, “think this through.”

Harley nodded, gently taking the woman’s hands and pulling her into a tight hug, “fine, fine, but on one condition.”

Had Ivy not put her guard down, her eyes would’ve rolled back into her head, “and what is that?”

“No tears, no crying. That’s my job,” she said with a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who has been leaving comments on this fic, it's really gotten my mojo back so, in return, I decided to post again this week. This chapter is a little longer than the ones before but not by a lot, but either way, I hope you enjoy it.  
Thanks again for your support,  
Turtle xx


	8. Breaking Down the Stone Wall

The new penthouse was marvellous and although it couldn’t be as overgrown as Ivy’s greenhouse due to stability reasons, it was still incredibly green on the inside. It was filled with lavish furniture, marble flooring, perfectly white walls. Well, from what could be seen between the vast amount of plants. The architraves were intricately detailed, lining the bottom of the walls and the door frames. The dining room was alit with a large chandelier, each crystal reflecting and creating a small rainbow on the surfaces it shone on. It was huge, to say the least, but Ivy used the space well. It featured a large master bedroom, with an ensuite and a large walk-in wardrobe. It would be a whole room in itself. The ensuite was lavish, a large walk-in shower that could fit almost three people in it with room to dance, a corner spa and even a double vanity. It had two additional rooms, one was decked out with Ivy’s science stuff and the other had been turned into a spare room, although the plant woman had plans to change it as she didn’t really need it. But for now, it was a spare bedroom.

Although, it didn’t seem that the double vanity would be put to use. Harley was still insistent on returning to Joker but didn’t seem to be making an effort to leave the penthouse. Ivy had been quiet, not talking much and resulting in pruning her plants and watering them, too much. She was trying to open up to the clown, but whenever she did she would retract and shrink back into her little tower. She was confident in Arkham but knowing that the little blonde was still so interested in the clown prince of Gotham, she was worried about losing her by being too forward. But it seemed she wasn’t being forward enough. Harley demanded attention, it was woven into her very being but Ivy just didn't know what kind to give her. Her usually alluring persona had been whittled to a shy and grumbling husk. It was sickening, the thought that she could be at such a low state of mind all because of a bubbly omega who managed to break through her walls. She was beginning to doubt herself, something she hadn’t done since her days as Pamela. 

Her efforts seemed void unless they were cooped up under the warm of Ivy’s bed covers, slender green fingers tangled in soft blonde locks, legs entwined as the air was filled with a gentle silence. Each time she would try and embrace the other she couldn’t follow through and would end up just walking right passed her and finding something different to do. She hadn’t dated for so long if one could call whatever they had remotely close to dating. It was more of a ‘friends with benefits’ situation. Harley, of course, couldn’t give two hoots. She had a place to stay, food and protection of a sort. Besides, her sexual needs were tended to as well, it kept her relaxed, but whether Harley actually loved the plant woman, she couldn’t quite tell. She had been treated so gently, all of her bruises having cleared and hadn’t returned, she no longer flinched when Ivy came close and actually relaxed. Ivy had noticed the alpha mark on the back of Harley’s neck had faded to pretty much nothing. She wasn’t serious about going back to him, she had rejected him as her alpha entirely. But there wasn’t a hope in hell that she would tell her roommate. 

If it wasn’t winter, Ivy would be out on the balcony soaking up the little sunlight that peaked through the clouds. Instead, she was in her little makeshift lab, mixing away at chemicals, a pair of goggles resting on the bridge of her nose, her green skin contrasted by a stark white lab coat and a pair of white gloves. The goggles had slipped down to rest almost at the tip of her nose, any movement would make them slip right off and fall into the bubbling mixture that was swirling away in the beaker that her hand cradled and would’ve stayed in, had Harley not wandered in. 

“Hey, Pammie!” The blonde exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear. 

The plant woman flinched, hissing as her goggles slipped right off her nose and dropped into the solution, splashing and burning the lab coat and her exposed wrists. In the end, she had dropped the beaker, scowling as the sound of shattering glass echoed around the room. 

She growled softly, turning to face the cheery blonde, gritting her teeth, “and what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Let’s go and watch a movie!”

Ivy glared, “you interrupted me when I said not to, to ask to watch a movie?”

“Well yeah! How else would I know if ya wanted to watch a movie?”

Ivy stepped over the glass shards gingerly, peeling the gloves off and tossing them into a yellow hazard waste bin, mumbling under her breath as she grabbed two sterilized cloths and draped them over her wrists, “listen, Harley, there is a reason why I told you not to, now, do you see the reason?”

“You were busy?”

“And?”

“Well duh, ya dropped that mixture potion thing you had goin’- oh, okay, yeah now I see.”

“Oh you do, do you?” She asked, rathered annoyed. 

The blonde winced, “yeah, shit I’m sorry Red, I didn’t mean-”

“Just be quiet and step out so you don’t injure yourself, please,” Ivy demanded, although rather softly.

Harley nodded, quickly stepping out of the makeshift lab with her eyes down to the ground to avoid any stray pieces of glass. Ivy began to clean up the area, sweeping, vacuuming and then mopping before walking out to the lounge, looking over the clown who was perched on the arm of the couch, cross-legged. 

“Now, what movie would you like to watch?”

The omega frowned, rather confused, “ya not mad..?”

“Yes, but it’s fine. It’s just you.”

Harley was immensely confused, but shrugged and continued as if nothing happened, “what ‘bout a comedy? Ya look like ya need a good laugh.”

She nodded, “alright, your pick,” she offered, sitting down on the couch and draping a throw over her lap.

Movies were never Ivy’s thing, but she had learnt to tolerate them for Harley’s sake. Every night seemed like movie night when it came to the clown, who was always curled up to the alpha’s side each time, no matter the film. She currently was, having shuffled over from the arm of the couch to nestle into the green woman’s side as she scrolled through the movies, grumbling to herself as the buttons refused to work when she pushed them and selecting a movie once she found what she thought would be interesting. 

The movie was watched in silence, Ivy’s stature changing as she showed interest in the film on screen, sitting upright with her legs crossed and her hands neatly folded in her lap. At some point, Harley had lost interest, resting her head on the redhead’s shoulder as she stared absentmindedly at the screen, her eyes dark and unfocused. She was fed up with the film and was rather bored. Her normal activities when bored were a concoction of gym tricks, pranks and sex, but knowing what Ivy was like, she wouldn’t be able to leave the couch without her yanking her back down. In the eyes of the Alpha, if she had to suffer the movie, so did Harley, even if the other was enjoying the film. So, she resorted to the one thing she could do without moving, teasing. She turned to face the soft, unmarked green skin of Ivy’s neck. Smirking to herself, she pressed her lips to the crook of Ivy’s neck, earning an annoyed grunt from the plant woman as she gently brushed her off. 

With a frown, Harley returned to her neck and kissed up along it, grabbing her ear lobe between her teeth and tugging on it. 

The alpha growled softly, “where are you wanting this to go?”

“I’m bored, surely ya ar’ too,” she huffed, kissing the back of her ear. 

“You didn’t answer my question, daffodil,” Ivy replied rather sternly.

“Well, the ideal situation, we ditch the movie and crawl into bed where I can litter ya in hickeys,” Harley admitted, cheesily. 

“Ah, speaking of marks,” she started, pausing the movie, “I’m going to ruin whatever mood you’re in, but I need you to be completely honest and you’re not leaving this couch until you are.”

The omega frowned, “right…”

“The mark, from Joker, it’s gone.”

“Yeah, what of it?” Harley asked defensively, moving back a bit and giving her a glare. 

“That only happens when an omega rejects their alpha, which means you really don’t want to go back to Joker,” she explained, knowing all too well that Harley knew.  
In turn, the blonde grumbled, “ya really did ruin the mood,” she huffed, “so what if I have? It ain’t like he’s come to get me or nothin’.”

“So you have finally realised that.”

Harley shook her head, “I realised it a while ago, I just didn’t wanna believe it, y’know?”

That was the thing, Ivy did know and all too well at that. Normally she would lecture her on how she was always right and how she should’ve listened, she could’ve gone for hours, even days. But she didn’t, she had once been in similar shoes, she had just waited too long to do anything. There was a small inkling that she was lying, to both herself and to Ivy, but she let it lie, for now. 

A slender arm hooked around Harley’s waist as she was pulled closer and pressed her lips softly to her forehead. She had done it and this time, not in the comfort of her bed. She had let her instincts take over, even if it meant proving Harley wrong. The little clown was her omega, she woke up in the morning for her, to make sure she had eaten and went to bed knowing she was safe. Maybe the green wasn’t her only calling, maybe this little whiney, annoying, cute pup was wriggling her way into her life, to give her another purpose. 

“Come, I was getting bored of the movie anyway,” she said, turning off the tv and lifting Harley up as she stood, walking to her room carrying the giggling clown.


	9. Just Listen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Updating a fic? Blasphemy I know. This one has been sitting around for a while, half-finished and only now have I had the drive to finish it off. It's not crazy long, but it's not ridiculously short.
> 
> There is a trigger warning for PTSD and outbursts pertaining to it, whether it's needed or not it's there just to be sure.

Sleeping was a foreign concept for Ivy, she couldn't remember the last time she slept through the night without waking. But in her defence, in her younger days, every man and his dog were out to kill her. It had come in handy, especially when watching over Harley. The little blonde clown had become accustomed to living with the plant woman, the scent of pine and eucalyptus polluting her sheets, cushions, hell it had even cloaked onto her own clothes but it never seemed to bother her. The scent was comforting, it laid her mind at ease, until she closed her eyes. That was still a dark place, riddled with memories and emotions that would stay with Harley until the day she died. Although, sleep came easy to her, nestled into Ivy as slender fingers raked through her hair, the faintest of hums leaving the metahuman's lips. It was the quiet before the storm, the storm that Ivy had no warning or knowledge about. It all happened so fast, a harsh shove to the chest as Harley's eyes had suddenly snapped open, the shove pushing her to the edge of the king-sized bed. She was clammy, her breathing laboured as her eyes were as wide as dinner plates. She could've sworn she would have two hand-shaped bruises forming on her chest. 

Ivy reached out, only to quickly withdraw her hand as Harley screamed out, "don't fuckin' touch me!" The blonde snarled, fear plain in her eyes. 

The plant woman immediately backed down, exiting the bed and keeping her voice and gaze low and soft, "alright, alright, no touching," she said, raising her hands, "see? I won't touch you."

Despite her bests efforts, Harley didn't calm. Her jaw was clenched shut and her eyes were fixated on the green woman before her. Ivy sidestepped around the bed, her eyes not leaving the blonde's own. 

"Harley, I need you to focus on my voice and nothing else for the moment, okay?" She asked, taking a step closer to the bed but keeping her movements slow. She didn't want to startle the omega any more than she already had.

Once she was confident Harley had honed into her voice, she spoke once again, "alright, we're going to go through your five senses, okay? Give me five things you can smell," she asked. The alpha remembered the clown talking to her how they dealt with trauma patients at Arkham, well, the good doctors at least. She thought that there was no better time to use the knowledge than the situation she had at hand. 

Harley's shaking hadn't ceased, but she did give a very slight nod, "um..you, uh..I dunno.." she mumbled, her breathing picking up in pace again and Ivy was quick to redirect her attention.

"That's okay, what do I smell like?" The plant woman asked, stepping a little closer to the bed. If she were to get Harley in the right headspace, she would need to be quick and slow at the same time. She had to be quick to keep her focussing on something other than whatever was running through her head, but slow as to not scare her away. 

"Cinnamon, pine, eucalyptus, peppermint tea and..." Harley trailed off, taking in a few deep breaths, "a bit of lemon."

Ivy nodded, kneeling down by the side of the bed, "good, good, now, five things that you can see."

"The uh...the pretty lady in fron' 'a me...the lamp that ya never use....um..." the blonde's voice trailed off as her gaze diverted from the lamp, visibly falling back into the pit Ivy was so desperately trying to pull her out of. 

"Hey, peanut, over here, look at me," she said, a finger gently grazing the clown's leg as a way of letting her know the alpha was there for her. 

It was scary, seeing the one she cared for so much begin to crumble in front of her, taking one step forward and two steps back. She wanted to reach out, hold her tightly and never let go, constantly telling her she's okay and she's safe, but she knew she couldn't. It would scare the blonde, the sudden movements, the pressure on her body. The reassuring voice Joker offered each time he would hurt Harley, each time he wronged her. It would break her further, and Ivy wanted to avoid that in every way possible. 

Eventually, Harley looked back to the metahuman, her eyes glossed over with fear, "I...I can see ya freckles...I can see ya...ya um, ya eyes, ya plants..."

Before she could be lost in her thoughts once again, Ivy worked to grab her attention, "good, good," she praised, moving up slowly to sit on the edge of the bed, "and how about five things you can hear?"

Harley was slowly beginning to calm down, her breathing less laboured than what it was, "I..can 'ear ya voice....my breathin', the weird fountain thing ya have rigged up, um..." she closed her eyes, trying to focus on the sounds around her, "I can 'ear....the wind outside..the.. the voices.."

"Okay, we're not going to listen to the voices, alright? Give me one more thing that you can hear, anything at all."

A slight nod was all Harley gave before she spoke up, "Yeah..Okay...um..ya uh..weird purple plant thing, it's snorin'?" She said, although it seemed more of a question.

"Georgia is snoring, yes," she spoke softly, agreeing to her claim. 

A hand gently tugged at the plant woman's shirt, a green hand extending and taking Harley's ghostly white hand into her own. The omega laced their fingers together, studying the hold before slowly climbing into Ivy's lap, straddling her waist and nestling her head into the crook of her neck. A wave of relief washed over the alpha's features as her arms wrapped around Harley’s slightly trembling figure protectively. Ivy really wasn’t great at reading people nor dealing with them, but with Harley, it was a completely different scenario. She had to try, even if it made her feel uncomfortable and made her step out of her comfort zone. This little, pale, hyperactive clown had changed the plant woman, perhaps for the best but of course, Ivy didn’t really know if that was the truth. She never believed people could change, especially with her own personal experiences of her parents and up until recently, Harley. All her life she had been so convinced that the human mind could never change, no matter the stimulus yet there she was, cradling the one Joker mad sidekick and taking in her scent. For a brief second, she believed that Harley was changing her.


End file.
